


The Cure

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Business, Canonical Character Death, Cruelty, Ghosts, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism, Scrooge!Scream, Seeker Trines, Unexpected Visitors, greed - Freeform, spoilers for canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Cliffjumper was dead to begin with. He wasn’t supposed to be making any unexpected visits to the living. Therefore, when a certain murderous Seeker saw the dead Autobot flitting about in his peripheral vision, he didn’t need to put too much effort into convincing himself that he was simply suffering energon deprivation. Believing that was a bit harder now, since Cliffjumper was standing immediately in front of him.





	

Cliffjumper was dead to begin with—dead as a Terrorcon, to put a bit of irony in it. He wasn’t supposed to be making any unexpected visits to the living, no matter if they had been his friend or his enemy. Therefore, when a certain murderous Seeker saw the dead Autobot flitting about in his peripheral vision, he didn’t need to put too much effort into convincing himself that he was simply suffering energon deprivation. Of course he would be after an orn like this. What a slaggin’ _terrible_ orn it had been!

Firstly, the more mischievous of his trine-mates, Skywarp, had dropped by without any warning, babbling on about some celebration that was to take place and that both Starscream and Thundercracker simply had to come. Starscream had done everything he could to protest, but Skywarp was having none of it, needling, pestering, and scattering Starscream’s meticulously-sorted data pads.

“Please, Skywarp! I do try to run a tight business!” Starscream was in the process of saying to his smirking, wing-fluttering trine-mate when two more uninvited guests made their presence known with a revving of engines. Starscream had studied them with distaste as they strode in; he was certain he could see their _wheels_ still spinning. As they made their way toward the flyers, the larger of the two had nodded briefly to the nearby clerk; Orion Pax smiled a little, furtively glanced in Starscream’s direction to see if he had noticed, and then continued fruitlessly trying to stoke up the sputtering orb lamp nearby.

Starscream hadn’t paid much attention to Orion, too busy skirting past Skywarp to put some distance between himself and the grounders. The smaller, a flashy red mech, offered a suspiciously warm grin before introducing himself and his comrade as the founders of Breakout Incorporated, a brand new company which took donations for the underprivileged in the Dead End.

“Until recently, I didn’t care much about them myself,” Knockout commented, flitting his hand in a dismissive gesture. “But Breakdown here has a talent for noticing the Vehicons in the area and he pointed out that they would be good business. I’m something of a Modder, you see, and we all know that Vehicons, miners, and the like could all use an upgrade and a buffing. Wouldn’t you agree, Head Commandant?”

“Too true,” Starscream agreed, but his sneer of disgust spoke volumes. Breakdown raised an eyebrow, but Knockout only beamed more widely.

“Well, then! Care to do a favor for your fellow mech?”

“Knockout, was it?” Starscream asked rhetorically, sitting and folding his hands primly on his desk. “I admire your talent for business, but I think your credits would be better served elsewhere. For example…” He echoed Knockout’s dismissive wave back to him. “Perhaps you and your assistant should look in the mirror.”

Knockout’s smile remained, but his optics narrowed. “I beg your _pardon?_ ” he spat through clenched teeth.

“With that eyepatch, your assistant looks like half his face is missing,” Starscream pointed out the obvious, as though speaking to a sparkling. “And you, well, your paintjob doesn’t quite make up for those— _those_ on your back.” In the corner, Skywarp snickered a little, and Starscream tilted his helm pityingly at the grounders, waiting for their response.

The Modder’s wheels had begun spinning testily back and forth as he struggled to regain his composure. Breakdown put a staying hand on Knockout’s shoulder and spoke up sharply. “There’s a celebration tomorrow.”

Finally growing impatient, Starscream glanced at Skywarp pointedly as he snapped, “I’ve been made aware, all too clearly! But I’ve never really been one to honor this particular celebration; my taste is _far_ lordlier than anything it can offer, so anyone who cares to bother me about it can be boiled with his own energon and buried with a shard of Dark Energon in his spark chamber! Perhaps it would lower the taxes they’re so keen to complain about!”

On that note Knockout had growled at him, spun on his heelstrut and stalked out, followed by a sullen Breakdown, though he perked up a little when Orion quickly reached out.

“I can’t speak for Starscream,” he admitted softly, “but hopefully this will be enough for a repair job or two?”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Breakdown muttered, taking the credit stick Orion offered. “Nice of you.”

Starscream had taken enough time to roll his optics at his clerk’s undying martyrdom before informing Skywarp in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t be coming to the celebration.

“Suit yourself! The invite’s still open until the party’s over!” Skywarp had called, miming a shard of energon stabbing his chest before cackling at the quite unamusing joke and hurrying out. “I hope I can catch up to those grounders. Think about it, Starscream: maybe they’ll take donations for _Eradicons_ , not just Vehicons!”

From there Starscream had been treated to an age-old, infuriating conversation with Orion, who requested the entire next orn off for his own celebration with his family and friends. In the end, Starscream had seen that the data clerk wasn’t going to budge until his request was granted, so he gave him permission which he didn’t deserve and then headed home.

It was when he had entered his dim but richly furnished quarters that he thought he saw a flash of red and familiar teal optics. On the way into his quarters, Starscream had flexed his claws, remembering the sensation of energon dripping over his claws, and he laughed away his nervousness. Cliffjumper was dead. Very much so.

Believing that was a bit harder now, since Cliffjumper was standing immediately in front of him, arms folded over the gaping tear in his chest, ghostly-pale optics narrowed fiercely. Starscream squawked in alarm, dropping the energon cube he had been trying to enjoy.

“Well, well,” Cliffjumper drawled. “I see you’ve been kinder to yourself than you were to me, eh, Scream? Love what you’ve done with the place! The dead orb lamps are especially picturesque.”

“Shut up!” Starscream told him impulsively, glowering and trying to draw himself up further in his seat. “I forgot how much you liked to _talk_.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going to be talking for a klik or two longer,” Cliffjumper replied, something almost haughty glinting behind his frown. “You killed me off before my time, Screamer.”

“I suspect most Autobots I’ve killed would say that,” Starscream muttered impulsively.

“Don’t I know it. But this time, the Allspark agrees with me. It won’t let me in until I give you fair warning of what’s comin’. You used Dark Energon,” Cliffjumper reminded him. Starscream cocked one wing in a shrug and Cliffjumper shook his helm incredulously. “It’s the blood of the Unmaker, Screamer. It poisoned your spark, so when you die, you don’t get to come to the Allspark like the rest of us. You get to wander, like I am now, _forever_.”

“Wh— _What?!_ ” Starscream sputtered. “B-But it was only once or twice! It’s not like I made a habit of it like _some_ people!”

“True, but don’t stab the messenger.” The Autobot very nearly managed a smile at the dark humor. “As much as I don’t like it, there’s a cure, a way to purge it from you so when you die…which might be sooner than you think…you’ll be able to join the Allspark like all the rest.”

“Really,” Starscream scoffed, finally deigning to rise to his full height. “And I’m just supposed to trust you and your ‘cure’? As you seem fond of pointing out, I killed you. It was only fair, by the way. You were a prisoner of war.”

“You can trust me or not; it doesn’t matter to me,” Cliffjumper stated, spreading his hands and letting Starscream peer through the hole in his chest. “I’m doing this so I can fulfill my mission and join the Allspark in peace. But the purging is gonna be tried whether _either_ of us like it. Expect another visitor when your chronometer strikes one.”

Before Starscream could manage a snappy comeback, Cliffjumper tipped a mocking salute, pale optics brightening until they almost looked online again. His smirk was the last thing to fade into darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, guess who watched _A Muppet Christmas Carol_ today? ;) I found myself inspired to write some Scrooge!Scream, hahaha. It's been too long since I wrote Transformers: Prime, so I hope you enjoy! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


End file.
